


i never saw you coming

by makemelovely



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Vegas, F/F, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Married in Vegas AU, Mutual Pining, Sharing a Bed, Strangers to Lovers, background merder except theyre tolerable, past owen x cristina
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:08:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24176368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makemelovely/pseuds/makemelovely
Summary: A drunken night leads to unexpected consequences as Cristina and Teddy pretend to be a happily married couple to save face. They really should tell you about the dangers of drinking in Sin City.(They do.)
Relationships: Meredith Grey & Cristina Yang, Teddy Altman/Cristina Yang
Comments: 17
Kudos: 60





	1. chapter one

Cristina wakes up with a splitting headache in a bed that’s not her own with an arm wrapped around her waist. Cristina rolls over, eyes tracing over the slender fingers to the tanned skin of her arm to the peaceful expression on her sleeping face. One of her arms is trapped beneath her body, but Cristina doesn’t focus on that. Instead, she racks her brain for any sort of memories from the night before. She vaguely recalls meeting the blonde at the bar. Maybe they had danced? She really only recalls the feeling of the girl’s body pressed against her own, the vague scent of her perfume or her shampoo or maybe even her body wash. If she focused hard enough she might even be able to recall the sound of her voice, but her hangover headache is persistent and gruelling, sharp spikes of pain bursting behind her eyelids whenever she strains too hard.

Whatever. If Cristina’s being honest, she doesn’t care enough to remember the girl. She may not be crying over her split with Owen, but that doesn’t mean she’s recovered from their painfully awkward break up. God knows it’s going to get worse when she returns to work tomorrow. Speaking of, Cristina checks her phone, scowling at both the bright screen and the time flashing on it. Meredith had called twenty minutes ago, but she hadn’t left a voicemail which means she’s still waiting to panic.

The dark haired girl rolls out of bed, quietly and efficiently getting dressed, tugging her shirt on and the pants that had once been a good idea dutifully. Her shoes are a pain, but she doesn’t exactly want to be walking around barefoot in Vegas. Once she’s sure she has all of her things on her person, she heads for the door. Her fingers are wrapped around the handle when she hears movement from behind her. The blonde rolls over in bed, one hand grasping for the space Cristina had previously been and the other twisted underneath the sheets. Cristina escapes before she can wake up, shutting the door softly behind her.

She’s halfway back to her shared hotel room when her phone starts ringing. She answers it quickly, holding it up to her ear and wincing when Meredith’s voice blasts through the speakers. “Cristina, thank god. Where the hell are you? Our plane leaves in forty five minutes.”

Cristina runs a hand through her hair, quickening her pace. “I’m sorry, Mer. Look, I’m approaching the hotel now. I’ll meet you in our room. I’m sorry.” She repeats, hanging up.

Meredith looks pissed when she enters their hotel room, standing by Cristina’s bed where her suitcase is already packed. “You have ten minutes to shower. There’s an outfit already in there waiting for you.” She grumbles, her hands firmly planted on her hips.

“Thank you.” Cristina mumbles, quickly stripping off her clothes and darting into the bathroom. She flinches as the cold water cascades over her, but she grits her teeth and bears it. She showers in less than five minutes, and she’s dressed by the seven minute mark. “Ready.” She announces, reappearing in their room. She’s dressed casually in jeans and a plain colored shirt, tennis shoes on her feet and her wet hair pulled into a bun. Meredith has taken care of her clothes from the night before, and their bags are waiting by the door.

“Good. I called a taxi, and they’ll be here in about two minutes. Let’s go down and meet them.” Meredith says stiffly.

Their taxi is waiting out front for them, and they sit in silence all the way to the airplane. “Are you mad at me or something?” Cristina asks, turning to Meredith who sits idly beside her, flipping through a magazine.

Meredith sighs, the sound big and dramatic. “No, Cristina, I’m not _mad_ at you. I was just… scared, okay? I didn’t know where you were, you weren’t answering your phone, and we had a flight to catch. I was nervous and worried and scared.”

Cristina bites down on her lower lip, one hand reaching up to touch the back of her neck. Her eyebrows furrow when she feels the cold press of metal against her skin, and her heart practically stops in her chest when she brings her hand down and sees the simple gold wedding band on her ring finger. “I was getting married.” She says softly.

“What?” Meredith blinks at her.

“I was getting married.” She repeats, showing Meredith her hand.

Meredith’s eyes go wide when she finally registers what Cristina’s telling her. “Oh, my god! Who did you marry?”

Cristina shakes her head. “I don’t know. I mean, I woke up this morning in bed with this woman, but I left before she woke up. Mer, I don’t remember, like, anything from last night. I vaguely remember dancing with her? Maybe. I don’t remember her name or her phone number or where she lives. I don’t remember any of it, if she even told me in the first place.”

“Shit.” Meredith breathes.

“Yeah.” Cristina agrees, twisting the band around her finger. There’s nothing big or gaudy about it. It practically weighs nothing. If Cristina hadn’t felt it against her neck, she might not have realized it was even there. Luckily she had.

The rest of the flight is passed in bouts of questioning and whispered conversations, as if any other passenger cares about the topic they’re discussing, and naps. Meredith nudges her awake when the plane lands, the two tiredly continuing their conversation from before.

“And you don’t remember anything? You’re sure?” Meredith asks for the millionth time since they got in the goddamn cab at the airport.

“Yes, Mer, I don’t remember anything. Not her name, her phone number, occupation. Not where she’s from or even if she’s actually single. Not a single thing besides what her body feels like pressed against mine.” Cristina snaps, exasperated. The cab pulls to a stop in front of Meredith’s house, and the two get out and begin unloading their luggage.

Meredith falls silent, and when Cristina meets her eyes she discovers a smirk spreading slowly across Meredith’s face. “Oh yeah?” She waggles her eyebrows teasingly, her eyes bright. “How did it feel?” She unlocks the front door, leading Cristina inside and bumping her hip against the door to shut it.

The part of Cristina that values her privacy wants to tell Meredith to fuck right off, but the part of Cristina that desperately wants to confide in people urges her to be honest. “It was great. I don’t remember much, but I feel like she’d have talented hands.”

Meredith laughs, and leads her upstairs. “C’mon, tell me all about it. We can throw on a movie and wait until we pass out. We need all the sleep we can get before we head back to work tomorrow.” She points out.

“Yeah. Hey, did you hear that there’s a new hire coming in tomorrow?” Cristina slides out of her jeans, accepting a pair of pajama pants that Meredith hands her.

Meredith imitates Cristina’s actions, pulling on pajama pants that almost match the ones she gave Cristina had they not been a different color. “Derek’s been talking about it, but he doesn’t know anything about it. If he does, he’s gotten a hell of a lot better at keeping secrets.”

“Maybe it’ll be that cardio god I’ve been begging for.” Cristina jokes.

Meredith laughs, sliding under the covers and gesturing for Cristina to join her. She slips in beside Meredith, warm and content to be with her best friend, her person. There’s nothing like quality time to help you get over a break up. Not that Cristina _needs_ help getting over a break up, obviously. She’s one hundred percent over Owen, anyways. She never even liked him that much to begin with.

Nobody would get away with actually saying it because Cristina can’t even admit it to herself, but she misses Owen more than she wants to admit. She knows they’re never going to get back together, but that doesn’t mean the love she had felt for him had just vanished overnight. He wants kids, and she wants a career. The two don’t mix for Cristina. Not like that. It may work for Meredith and Derek who are over the moon to have officially adopted Zola, but Cristina doesn’t want kids. Not now, and probably not ever. She’s happy to have dedicated her life to her work, and she knows a kid wouldn’t be happy to have the leftover pieces of Cristina’s dedication.

Meredith reaches out, brushing her fingers through Cristina’s hair. “I think if Chief Webber finally got you a cardio god, you’d die of happiness.”

“You may be right about that.” Cristina slips further under the covers.

“Are you planning on heading to your apartment tonight or in the morning?” Meredith asks, affectionately messing with Cristina’s hair. Her touch is soothing and comforting, and Cristina’s worries wash away.

“In the morning.” Cristina yawns, her eyelids fluttering closed. “I’ll wake up early.” She drifts into a sleep that goes undisturbed until Derek gets home.

He slides into bed on the other side of Meredith without missing a beat, used to the impromptu sleepovers after years of on and off dating. “Go back to sleep.” He whispers, Meredith humming and repeating the message to Cristina.

After that, Cristina sleeps peacefully until her alarm buzzes. Cristina was a light sleeper, much to the dismay of her college roommate who would spend her nights partying and return in the wee hours of the morning to an irate Cristina who she woke up when she ran into the door three times. This was a process she repeated twice a week at least.

She gathers her luggage and slips downstairs, calling a cab and beginning the bare bones of her morning routine such as brushing her hair and teeth.

Once she gets to her apartment, she showers, taking as little time as she has to in order to get clean, thoroughly washing her hair and body with lavender scented bath products. She has plenty of time to unpack, putting her dirty clothes in the hamper and replacing her toiletries where they belong. She even has an apple for breakfast, grabbing her keys and heading out of the apartment dressed in jeans and a plain colored shirt. She’s itching to be back in her scrubs, a scalpel between her fingers and a body beneath her. She grabs a coffee before heading into work, sipping at it as she heads for her locker. By the time she gets there, her coffee is gone and she’s slipped into a sort of contentment inspired by the ease at which she feels.

If she had ever lost her groove, which she hadn’t, she had it back.

She cheerfully pulls her scrubs on, tossing her empty cup into a trash can and waiting for Meredith to arrive. The blonde arrives in a similar mood to Cristina, talking happily to Lexie while April follows sullenly behind them, waiting for her friends to arrive.

“You’re practically glowing.” Cristina comments.

“The glow of motherhood.” Meredith answers teasingly. “That doesn’t explain your glow, though.”

“The glow of imminent surgery.” She responds.

Meredith arches an eyebrow, eyes flicking down to the ring still on Cristina’s finger. “Or maybe it’s the glow of being married.”

“Wait what?” Lexie and April chorus together, exchanging a glance before they look away, resentment sparking in Lexie’s eyes. There’s a hint of an apology in them, but Cristina can see the moment she dismisses it, her eyes hardening and her jaw locking firmly.

“None of your business, Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum.” Cristina snipes, pulling her hair into a ponytail and making her way to the door. “I’ll wait for you by the nurse’s station, Mer.”

“Alright.” Meredith nods, already beginning to change into her scrubs. Cristina wanders over to the nurse’s station, requesting the charts for that morning’s rotation and beginning to read over them. Her eyes fly over them quickly, noting which ones are more cardio based and which ones aren’t. She may pay special attention to the cardio cases, but that doesn’t mean she ignores the cases that aren’t cardio focused. To be a great surgeon, you have to be a well rounded one. And Cristina Yang? She’s well rounded as hell.

“Hey.” Meredith peeks over Cristina’s shoulder, reading through the chart before moving to stand beside her, palms pressed against the counter. “Wanna go meet the new doctor?”

Cristina shrugs, following after Meredith as she starts to talk about the hectic morning at the house. Apparently Zola had woken up with an earache, and in retaliation she had woken the whole house up with a splitting, screeching cry. Derek had been put on Zola duty because Meredith had to get to the hospital early to check on progress at the hospital. A good surgeon is always prepared. Cristina is half listening, half filling in the details in her own head.

They take a peek at the conference room, but if anyone had been in there they were gone now. “Well, that was a bust.” Meredith sighs. “Want to come with me to the coffee cart?”

“Sure.” Cristina agrees, following her down to the coffee cart outside. They’re waiting in line when Cristina hears a voice. Something pings inside of her at the familiar sound, but she can’t quite place it.

“I don’t mean to pry, but I have seen the ring so I assume you aren’t hiding anything.” Arizona’s bright voice floats through the air as she and the girl she’s with wait for their coffees. “Are you married?”

“Er, yes, actually, but my wife is,” they turn as they get their coffee, and her eyes meet Cristina’s almost instantly. Bright green meets dark brown, and it’s like the whole world has stopped. It’s her, the woman from Vegas, blonde hair falling down her back in silky waves and pink lips dancing over Cristina’s skin. “Right there, actually.” She says before promptly dropping her coffee. It hits the ground with a splash, Teddy jolting back before it can soak her.

“Cristina?” Meredith hisses, concerned. She tugs on Cristina’s elbow, her fingers digging into her skin.

Teddy watches them curiously, her eyes bright and alert. Cristina’s first thought shouldn’t be that she’s so pretty, but it is. “Mer,” She mutters. “It’s her.”


	2. chapter two

“Hey, hon.” Teddy smiles brightly at Cristina, the younger girl stiffening for a split second before she forces herself to relax, her mouth twisting into a smile. If she’s being honest, it’s more of a grimace with upturned lips. The blonde glides over to her, her eyes sparkling with a tinge of familiarity that’s undercut by the wariness with which she regards Cristina. She leans in, pretending to brush a kiss against Cristina’s cheek while she whispers in her ear, voice low and warm against her ear. “Go along with this, okay? We can talk later.”

Cristina’s all set to ignore her plea and wonder where the hell she gets off on calling her  _ hon,  _ but she catches the imploring look in Teddy’s eyes, and she can’t bring herself to spit the words out. “Yeah, okay,” She mumbles before Arizona recovers from the surprise and strides forward, a puzzled look on her face.

She manages to smile despite it, a strange combination of confused but forced pleasantry in spite of the shock. Cristina would be impressed if Arizona as a whole didn’t remind her of an over enthusiastic golden retriever. “Cristina never mentioned that she had a wife. Or that her wife was going to be in town. Or that her wife was, you know,  _ you.”  _ Arizona laughs, the sound like bells chiming, and Cristina fights the annoyance bubbling up within her. She may help make breakfast in the morning, but the blue eyed woman had also spent many a morning humming sympathetically as Cristina gulps down coffee and scowls heavily at the mention of a certain trauma surgeon.

Teddy shrugs one shoulder, her hand coming to rest on the small of Cristina’s back. It feels natural, and Cristina half wishes she felt the urge to pull away. She doesn’t, and she even finds some hidden tension in her shoulders dissipating. “We’re pretty private people. Cristina and I both agreed that we would wait to tell people about us.”

Arizona nods like that makes perfect sense, and Cristina realizes she’s not as open a book as she previously thought. Meredith may be able to read her like the back of her hand, but she’s an anomaly. An exception. Everybody had expected Cristina to be a wreck after her break up with Owen, and she may have been reeling emotionally, but she wasn’t as obvious as she had thought. It’s comforting to know that her vulnerabilities are still hidden away from the masses, one last piece of armor covering her soft spots.

“You seemed pretty surprised to see her.” Arizona’s eyes are calculating, and she realizes that she hasn’t given Arizona enough credit. She’s smarter than Cristina likes to think. She may be trusting, but she isn’t naive. Her lack of familiarity with many of the Seattle Grace alumni make her a target for tricks. Inside jokes fly over her head, and she doesn’t understand the deeply traumatic history of the hospital, but she’s making it her home. She laughs more at things the interns don’t, and that makes her okay in Cristina’s books. 

Teddy drags her hand from Cristina’s back to her hand, laying limply in between them. She moves up her back down the length of her arm, brushing against her elbow, and encircling her wrist before she takes Cristina’s hand in her own, gently squeezing. Cristina’s heart leaps to her throat as Teddy turns her head and smiles down at her, eyes warm and smile kind despite the lingering awkwardness of their complete lack of familiarity with each other . Hazy memories of Teddy flash before Cristina’s mind, her smile and her mouth and the way her pink lips twisted at the corners, something utterly wicked about her movements and her expressions. “It was supposed to be a surprise,” Cristina isn’t sure how she does it, but Teddy’s voice is fond. It’s drenched in warmth, the kind that Cristina hears when she listens to Meredith and Derek talk over the kitchen table, eyes bright and laughter slicing through the air. Cristina wonders how she does it, how she makes a simple sentence sound like they’ve been married for twelve years, like they are comfortable and fond and in love with each other. “But I wasn’t expecting to see her so early. Kind of ruins the grand romantic plan of surprising her later today, but I’m sure I’ll figure something out.” Teddy’s eyes take on this teasing glint, and Cristina speaks before she can help herself.

“You always do.” She says, and her voice is different. Less sharp, maybe less cold. She doesn’t sound like Teddy, but she notices the slight change in Arizona’s posture, how she relaxes and accepts that at the very least they are familiar with each other.

Cristina’s focus is drawn more to Teddy, who grins at her, small but pleased. It’s nothing more than a tilt of her lips, but it’s genuine. Cristina knows that much. For a minute, Cristina can’t pull her eyes away from Teddy, her heart steadying in her chest as she holds the blonde’s gaze. It feels intimate in a way that her drunken, scattered memories of Teddy don’t. Maybe it’s because she can’t clearly recall them, but she’ll be able to remember every detail of this moment from the way the sun hits her hair to the golden glow of her skin. Her mouth curling at the corners, the relaxed grip she has on Cristina’s hand, the way her eyes seem endless, twin pools of green that shine and gleam. Cristina commits it all to memory without realizing she’s doing it. If she closed her eyes, the image of Teddy standing in the sun would be imprinted on the back of her eyelids, burning with its clarity.

“Right, well,” Meredith interrupts, her voice icy. When Cristina manages to drag herself out of Teddy’s orbit, she notices the steel in Meredith’s eyes, her mouth set in a firm line. “I can’t say I’ve heard much about you. Or anything.” She says cooly.

“Meredith,” Cristina starts to say, but Teddy holds her hand out instead, offering the other woman a handshake.

“Teddy Altman. You may not have heard about me, but I’ve heard about you, Meredith Grey. Cristina speaks very highly of you.” Teddy lies, and her smile seems colder, more performative. Cristina realizes that it’s because she doesn’t need to put on a show when speaking to Meredith. She isn’t her fake wife, after all. Cristina isn’t really sure what to do with this information, but she stores it away even if it makes her stomach hurt.

“I’m sure she does.” Meredith’s spine is stiff, her shoulders set. She looks strong and sturdy, and like she’s ready to fight Teddy Altman outside of the stupid coffee kiosk for Cristina’s imaginary honor or something as equally stupid as that.

“Oh, shoot!” Arizona exclaims as her pager goes off. “I have to take this.” She throws an apologetic look Teddy’s way, but the other woman waves her off. Cristina vaguel wonders if Arizona is a cartoon character. Shoot? What kind of adult says that? She must be spending too much time with children. She’s beginning to sound like them. Which, actually, must help with her job. It’ll certainly help her solidify a bond with the children if she can seemingly relate to them.

“Go, go. We’re all surgeons, we understand.” She reassures her. The pediatric attending runs off to an emergency that Cristina is sure Alex is going to get paged about.

The moment she’s out of sight, Meredith doubles down on Teddy, her eyes bright with determination. “I know you and Cristina aren’t married.” She reveals bluntly, her expression fiercely protective.

“Actually,” Teddy points out. “We are married. We just weren’t together before our nuptials.” There’s a smugness hidden in Teddy’s words. She’s not going to brag outright, but the tinge of sarcasm reveals that she thinks she’s pretty clever. 

Meredith opens her mouth to protest, but Cristina cuts her off. “Never mind that. How did you know Meredith’s name?” Cristina certainly never mentioned Meredith during their night together, and there’s no reason for her to know Meredith’s name off the top of her head. If Cristina believed in anything but cold, scientific fact she might ponder the idea of Teddy being a psychic. However, there’s no proof Teddy is a psychic so that’s just silly. If there’s no substantial evidence to prove something, then it’s likely that it isn’t true. At least, that’s what common sense would indicate.

Meredith’s eyebrows furrow, but Teddy just jerks her head to indicate the hospital. “I had a meeting with Richard Webber this morning. He told me a lot about you this morning, Cristina. Meredith’s name came up in the conversation, and I figured that Ellis’ daughter would naturally seek to follow in her mother’s footsteps at this specific hospital. I’m just lucky I was right.” Teddy laughs as if it’s a joke, but Cristina isn’t really in a joking kind of mood.

“Why did you ask me to go along with the whole married ruse?” Cristina asks, her voice sharp and inquisitive.

Meredith checks out of the conversation, typing away on her phone. Teddy bites her lower lip, sighing slightly as she checks her watch. “I have a few more meetings to attend this morning,” She admits reluctantly. Cristina scowls at the woman, refusing to back down. Teddy rolls her eyes, smiling faintly as she pulls her hand away from Cristina’s. The resident hadn’t even realized they were still holding hands, and she resolutely ignores the sudden loss she’s feeling.

She hasn’t lost anything significant, and she certainly won’t start  _ missing  _ Teddy. It’d be stupid to. It’s not like they were together. It’s not like they were married because they wanted to be with each other. Cristina’s not even sure she  _ wants  _ to be with someone right now. She can still feel the acute sensation of missing Owen nestled between her ribs, but she can’t be sure it’s because she misses Owen or because she misses  _ someone.  _ That’s the worst part of it.

Cristina misses something, but she can’t be sure what exactly it is that she misses.

“Have lunch with me, okay?” Teddy requests. “I promise I’ll explain everything to you then.” She smiles hopefully, invitingly.

Cristina can’t help but say yes. “Yeah, okay. I’ll have lunch with you.” She rolls her eyes, but she’s pleased by Teddy’s reaction.

The blonde’s eyes sparkle, light and warm. It’s easy making Teddy smile. Cristina likes the warmth it brings her, flooding in her chest. She’s always liked pleasing her educators. Nothing beats the feeling of being successful, and simultaneously cementing your success by sparking inspiration in the hearts of those more knowledgeable than you. Cristina likes learning. It’s what makes her an amazing surgeon. She’s always learning how to improve, what the cutting edge technique is and how to implement it correctly.

Cristina soaks up knowledge like a sponge. When used correctly, knowledge is a tool, one Cristina intends to implement whenever possible. However, the knowledge has to come from somewhere. Cristina can’t be great if somebody doesn’t teach her. Correction: she can’t be great without a few major mishaps if somebody doesn’t teach her the way to greatness. Trial and error, and all that. Cristina doesn’t want the error, therefore she can’t have the trial. She may know the definition of failure, but she knows it’s as applicable as success. Some people say you can’t be successful without failing, but that’s not true.

You can be very successful without failing, and Cristina intends to prove that. That’s why she needs great teachers. She needs someone to outline various paths to success so she can see which one she should choose. The risky path may bring some rewards, but it doesn’t always do that. Example A: Izzie and Denny. Cristina’s not going to be like. She can’t get attached like that. It only brings disaster.

“Alright.” Teddy says, like it’s that easy. “I’ll see you later.”

She’s gone before Cristina can blink, but luckily she’s distracted by Meredith flashing her the screen of her phone.

_ Teddy Altman, head of cardiothoracic surgery at… _

The article continues to describe some of Teddy’s innovative surgeries both in and out of the O.R. It describes a miraculous save in the field in Baghdad where Teddy was stationed. Cristina reads the article intently, eyes scanning the words rapidly.

“Huh.” Cristina mutters after she’s finished.

Meredith nudges her playfully, glancing down at the time before beginning to tug Cristina back inside sans coffee. “I guess you were right.” She says conversationally.

“About what?” Cristina wonders.

“She does have talented hands.” Meredith quirks her eyebrow, laughing as Cristina shoves her.

“Shut up.”


	3. chapter three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cristina reflects on the state of her love life.

The residents are gathered in the lobby, awaiting Teddy’s official introduction via Richard. The man in question is speaking quietly to Teddy who stands beside him, occasionally twisting the watch on her wrist. It’s simple, thin and ordinary. It isn’t flashy, and the face of the clock is small and oval shaped, the band glinting gold in the overhead light. She’s smiling at him reassuringly, her blonde hair falling in waves around her face.

“Rough morning?” Cristina hears Meredith ask, her eyebrows furrowing as she instinctively turns to her left to ask what exactly she means, only to find Meredith’s eyes trained on Alex as he shoulders his way to stand beside them.

He looks somber, his eyes dark and grim. “Yeah.” He says shortly, mouth twisting down.

“What happened?” Meredith presses kindly, reaching one hand out to rest on his arm. Her eyes shimmer with sympathy, something low and gentle in them. 

“A crappy case, that’s all.” Alex murmurs, glancing over his shoulder at Arizona. The blonde is leaning against the nurse’s station, eyes darting over the pages of the chart laying open before her. There’s a crinkle in her brow, the corner of her mouth flipped from its usual sunny smile into a stormy frown. She’s tense, her shoulders hunched and her posture dejected.

Meredith says something that Cristina doesn’t catch, her eyes turning back to the steps. Teddy’s eyes meet hers, something sharpening in them. They shine, her attention effectively captured and caught. When Teddy smiles, it’s like she’s smiling at Cristina, and Cristina  _ only. _

Richard clears his throat, beginning his introductory speech. The bulk of the residents turn their attention to the Chief, listening halfheartedly as they wonder whose service they’ll be on and who will make a miraculous save. There’s always something at Seattle Grace Mercy West. A few of them wonder about the new woman dressed in navy scrubs, but Cristina thinks that if anybody else has a few brain cells they’d obviously put two and two together and realize she’s going to be the cardio god Cristina’s been asking for.

The navy scrubs are a dead giveaway. Every other attending position is filled save for the cardio one. Therefore, she’ll be filling the position.

It’s obvious, but somehow the brainless found their way in Seattle Grace’s surgical program, and the majority of them are too tired to think properly.

Cristina can’t be certain what they’re thinking about, but she knows what Meredith is thinking about. Her eyes keep darting over to Alex, her head lulling to the side, dirty blonde hair falling across her face and obscuring Cristina’s view. Meredith may be able to read Cristina like an open book, but their closeness goes both ways. Cristina knows what it means when her lips twitch and one eyebrow raises and even what it means when Meredith cuts her eyes around the room like she’d rather be anywhere else. Meredith’s visual cues and her verbal cues are entirely different, though they do build off each other. The inflections and tone of Meredith’s voice often provides an abundance of evidence pointing to her emotional state, particularly after a therapy session when Meredith is her most open, albeit reluctantly.

Cristina clues back into Webber’s speech just as he finishes introducing Teddy, ushering her forward. He claps for her, his smile kind and fatherly, if not a little awkward due to the lack of familiarity. 

“Hi,” Teddy raises her hand in a short wave, more of a lifting of her arm if Cristina was being critical. “I’m Dr. Teddy Altman, and I’ll be your head of cardiothoracic surgery. I’ve recently been working in the field over in Baghdad, so it’ll be really great to see what sort of equipment you have.” Teddy smiles formally, distantly. She glances at the watch on her wrist, her mouth curling slightly.

Cristina doesn’t know her, doesn’t know what it means. Part of her wants to know, and the other part of her wants to walk in the other direction, to forget her name and forget her face and forget the flashes of their night in Vegas that crawl to the center of her mind, large and looming in her thoughts. She wants the images of tan skin against pale sheets and strobe lights flashing against blonde hair to vanish as quickly as she had that morning, headache pulsing incessantly and ring weightless on her finger.

Cristina’s not really a runner. She’s a thinker. She works problems out in her mind, critically and analytically. Most of her issues have been mundane, centered around school work and medical school and surgery. Rarely have her problems been whittled down to a romantic influence as the source of her troubles. Cristina doesn’t know how to solve that. Her problems have been solved without her, as easy as being removed from the equation without having to ask the hard questions, without having to say the words herself. They stay stuck in her throat, heavy and clunky and painful. She never quite manages the strength to swallow them down or spit them out. Instead, they stay and they stay and they stay. Until someone else broaches the subject.

It’s not like she’s ever needed to have the  _ I don’t really want to see you right now or possibly ever again  _ talk. The two serious relationships she’s had in her life, she’s been the one broken up with. The one left at the altar at the last minute, both literally and metaphorically. See, Cristina doesn’t run. She stays, for better or worse. She stays despite her feelings, despite all the bones in her body shrieking at her to cut her losses, to spit the words out and let the cards fall where they may. Cristina stays, and they leave. They always leave.

She hadn’t wanted to marry Burke. She did it because she loved him, because he was smart and his smile was steady and he taught her everything she’d wanted to know. He answered her questions at the dinner table, during commercial breaks, her pajama clad knee pressing against his, her head tilted onto his shoulder. The picture of love, of romance in the softest light possible. She had loved Burke, but she had never wanted to marry him. She had been coaxed, like a frail deer, down the concept of marriage and then tentatively brought to her own wedding like she was a flight risk. Her dress had been beautiful. She had looked beautiful, but the vows on her hand were gone, and she could not think of a single reason to marry Burke if she couldn’t see them. All she could think of was the feel of a scalpel in her hand, of its weight in her palm. Almost nothing, like air or a cloud. An extension of herself, even.

With her empty palm and her panicking heart, all she could think about were the times he shushed her when she spoke during a television program and the apartment she had left. Her insurance policy gone, her vows gone, her ability to walk down the aisle withering into ash, into smoke.

Meredith had talked her into it at the last second. Reminded her of how Burke made her feel, of his knee against her and the apartment she likes, she does like it, and how he loves her very much and how awful it would be if Cristina didn’t let herself do this because she was scared.

She had been ready to marry Burke. Resigned to it, almost, but she couldn’t quite think of it that way. Wouldn’t let herself think of it like that. She had been wearing a beautiful dress, and she didn’t have any vows written on her hand, and she loved Burke, and she was going to marry him. She  _ was.  _ She was going to walk down the aisle and say I do and promise for better or for worse.

She was going to do it, but she didn’t.

Burke left her. He left her standing in her wedding dress, her eyes wide and her lips parted and something half like relief and half like distress caving in her chest. A landslide of emotion tumbling down and burying her heart, drowning out every thought, every action besides overwhelming grief and the feeling that she had just escaped something terrible. A bullet dodged, a love lost. The overlap between the two, the sheer amount of similarities is impossible and true and impossibly true.

Cristina goes home to an apartment seemingly untouched, but all of the important stuff is gone. Burke is gone, and something inside of Cristina’s chest twists free, her grief and despair crumbling into a mountain of ash in the pit of her stomach, the taste crawling into her mouth and the oxygen seeping from the room until Cristina can’t breathe.

Cristina knows she should’ve told Burke, should have spit the words out and ignored the ache in her teeth, in her gums, the insistence that she shouldn’t that is as bone deep as, well, her  _ bones.  _ As real as flesh and muscle and tendons, as real as arteries and tissue and bone. As real as her heart beat and the biting cut of her fingernails when her hand curls into a fist, her nails digging into the skin of her palm.

Cristina doesn’t run so she stays, silent and resigned, choking back the words that could free her, and god Cristina doesn’t know how she can feel so trapped and liberated at the same time. Freed by the ease of her affections, pulsing in time with her heart, and caged by their expectation of what she was willing to provide, what she should be providing.

For Burke, it was marriage. A big wedding and sincere vows that came from her heart, not the writing on her palm.

For Owen, it had been a family. Children. A house with a yard and a dog and maybe a pool. Kids to laugh with, to love, to be with. Cristina had never really wanted that. Never wanted to make a child feel unloved because at her core Cristina Yang is a surgeon. She lives for it, breathes for it, would die for it in a heartbeat. Nothing compares to the feeling of a heart in her hand, a scalpel clutched in her fist, the sound of a heart monitor and the feeling of success after a surgery, her whole body flushed and glowing with the knowledge that she saved someone’s life.

Cristina craves that feeling more than she craves whatever motherhood could offer her. She sees Meredith with Zola, how her face absolutely lights up with joy that is so innate and wonderful that it glows from within like the sun. She loves that for her friend, and she wants Meredith to feel that every day for the rest of her life.

Cristina feels that after a surgery, adrenaline rushing through her veins, head spinning, almost dizzy but not quite. Glowing. After surgery, Cristina feels like she’s glowing.

Owen never understood that. He looked at her like he expected her to have baby names already picked out, that her disinterest in having children of her own was a facade that would disappear the second he brought it up. That she had a secret nursery already ready and she had just been waiting for him to ask.

When she told him she never wanted to be a mother, something died in his eyes. A light snuffed out. His jaw slackened, his face twisting with disbelief. As if a woman not wanting kids was inconceivable to him.

She had known it was over the second she saw the look on his face, but she didn’t say it, didn’t want it to be real. She loved Owen. She really did, but sometimes she wonders if she really knew Owen, or if he had kept his expectations and ideals tucked neatly out of sight until she was in too deep to wander her way around them.

The real kick in the teeth is that Cristina hadn’t spoken to him after he broke up with her. She may know why he broke up with her, but she wants to hear it. It’s for closure purposes or whatever Meredith’s shrink would say, her eyes knowing and her face a perfect impassive mask. It’s obvious that kids had been a dealbreaker to Owen. She just wishes he had respected her decision before she fell in love, before her heart jumped at his touch and her eyes met his from across the table in the operating room or in the gallery. She wishes he hadn’t thought he could change her mind, like this was a decision as simple as what takeout to get for dinner instead of a life changing decision like whether or not to have children.

Cristina would be less upset had she not invested so much of her heart into Owen. He was the first person she had truly loved since Burke, and he had left her in the lurch as much as Burke had. God, she really knew how to pick them, didn’t she?

“What’re you thinking so hard about?” Meredith inquires, bumping her shoulder against Cristina’s, jarring her from her thoughts.

“Owen.” Cristina mutters before she can think about it, hurrying to elaborate when Meredith frowns at her, annoyance sparking in her eyes at the thought of the trauma surgeon.  _ “Not  _ like that, Mer, I swear. I just never really got answers, and it feels like I need them. I can’t move on without speaking to him. I mean, in all transparency, I know why he broke up with me, but I need him to say it. I need him to explain to me so that maybe he can see how stupid he is for breaking up with me several months into our relationship something I had been open about since day one.” 

Meredith nods, her expression serious as she takes in Cristina’s logic. “I understand where you’re coming from. I think if it were me, I’d want the same thing. Just to solidify it for myself, you know?”

Cristina dips her head in acknowledgment, agreeing with the other resident. “Yeah, I know. I think I also want to ask him about Teddy. I mean, I talked to him all the time about how I needed a cardio god, and then after we break up one appears. It’s weird, right?” Cristina presses.

“Um, sort of. I think what’s weird is that you married your boss without knowing it.” Meredith points out.

“Okay, but she’s not just  _ my  _ boss. She’s your boss, too.” Cristina argues.

“My point still stands.” Meredith says. “I think it’d be weirder if Owen had something to do with her appearance  _ and  _ you got drunk and married her in Vegas.” She laughs, the sound dying out as she squints in surprise at something out of Cristina’s line of sight. “Oh. I think you might have been on to something with your Owen theory.”

“What? Why?” Cristina follows Meredith’s line of sight to see Teddy and Owen standing together. “Oh.” She says.

Teddy laughs at something Owen said, warmth overflowing in her laughter, head tilting back and her watch glinting on her wrist as she places one hand on Owen’s arm. The rest of the world falls away, everything going silent except for Teddy’s laugh, loud and bright and carefree. There’s genuine joy in her face, her eyes alight with it. Cristina watches as Owen smiles at her, grin wide and easy as he leans in to say something to her. Whatever it is makes Teddy laugh harder, Owen’s eyes going warm and pleased. There’s something familiar about how he looks at her, all open warmth and a spark of what might be friendliness or it might be interest. He turns his head slightly, eyes catching onto Cristina and Meredith watching them. Something shifts in his expression, his eyes sad until his expression shutters, his face going blank as if he doesn’t want to reveal anything.

“I’d say they know each other.” Meredith comments, the world slowly returning until Cristina is back in the hospital, solid ground beneath her and the noise of the hospital surrounding her.

“Oh, yeah.” Cristina responds, a deep chill sinking into her skin, a coldness growing inside of her like living ice, seeking out warmth and smothering it before it can bloom. An endless winter in her bones, stretching on endlessly, ceaselessly. Snow and ice and frost creeping up the notches in her spine. “They definitely do.”

**Author's Note:**

> hi I hope you guys enjoyed! If you're interested my tumblr is @makemelovely and my twitter is @tyzulafilms


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